


Stories on these Walls

by Agapostemon



Series: Bite the Sky [9]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bad Advice, Ficlet Collection, Gen, Homesickness, Humor, M/M, Space Uncle Coran (Voltron), Space Uncle Slav (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-22 18:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10702854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agapostemon/pseuds/Agapostemon
Summary: An assortment of ficlets set in the Bite the Sky continuum. Some of these will be gen and others are shippy. I'll mark that in the notes, along with ratings and content warnings.1. Love is a Rignerblossom [Slav, Coran & Matt / Implied Shatt]2. The Heaviness We've Known [Coran & Lance]





	1. Love is a Rignerblossom [Slav, Coran & Matt / Implied Shatt]

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request for the [75 Followers celebration](https://agapostemon.tumblr.com/post/159694241951/75-follower-ficlet-requests) I'm doing over on Tumblr, where people give me a character/relationship and either a song or a 5-7 word prompt. This request was "Slav, Love is a Rose by Linda Ronstadt." Which somehow turned into "nerdy space uncles give Matt questionable relationship advice."
> 
> Category: M/M, G-rated  
> Content Warnings: Nothing really?
> 
> Shout out to [Vanja](http://archiveofourown.org/users/procellous) for helping me BS some sci fi nonsense for this ficlet!

“Would somebody pass me the suction tube?” requests Slav, poking his head out of the pneumonic actualizer. When no one responds, he glances around at his companions. Coran is elbows-deep in another part of the machine, thoroughly absorbed in his task and muttering to himself as he works.

Matt, on the other hand, looks distracted by something else entirely. He’s staring blankly into space and fidgeting with a set of hex wrenches. He looks, well… anxious. So Slav clambers out of the pneumonic actualizer and makes his way over to the young human, “Is something the matter?”

Matt blinks down at Slav, almost indignant, “What? Oh, nah I’m fine.” He sets the hex wrenches down, but immediately switches to fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

Slav raises an eyebrow, “You appear to be more anxious than usual, today.”

“I’m fine,” Matt insists, grabbing a random tool and marching over to the actualizer before apparently realizing he has no idea what to do now that he’s there. He sighs, his shoulders sagging, “It’s nothing. Just stupid feelings.”

“Feelings?” Slav’s ears twitch, “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Matt shrugs listlessly, “Just an inconvenient rush of dopamine, norepinephrine and oxytocin.”

“Oh! Infatuation!” interjects Coran, standing up straight and brushing off his hands.

Matt looks less than thrilled by Coran’s deduction, “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like I’m gonna tell him and risk screwing up the team dynamics or anything. Let’s just… forget I said anything and get back to fixing the pneumonic actualizer, okay?”

Slav winds himself around Matt’s legs and pats sympathetically at his elbow, “Perhaps for the best. There is, after all, an inherent risk to admitting attraction. In 94.3% of scenarios, admitting attraction changes the dynamics of a relationship, and in 29.7% of those cases, the changes are negative in nature.”

“It’s true,” Coran says with a nod, “Love is like a rignerblossom bush. If you get too close, it’ll rupture your eardrums!”

Matt blinks, “I think I’m gonna require some context for that one.”

“Oh, rignerblossoms are a beautiful Altean flower,” Coran clarifies, gesturing wildly as he speaks, “You’d like them, I think. They’re orange and shaped like little chairs. At least until you sing near them. Then they become purple and highly toxic! Anyways, they emit a low hum that’s harmless in low doses, but a whole bush can rupture your eardrums!”

Matt doesn’t have a chance to reply, because just as Coran is concluding, Shiro knocks at the doorway and pokes his head in, “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Matt jumps a bit, his fleshy human cheeks growing even pinker than they already were, “Uh, nope! Just fixing the actualizer!”

“Do you mind if I borrow Coran for a bit? The princess needs his help with some diplomatic nonsense,” Shiro says apologetically.

“That’s perfectly fine,” says Coran with a twirl of his mustache, “I’m sure Slav and Matt can finish the task without me.”

“Alright, thanks,” says Shiro, beckoning Coran out of the room. Before he disappears completely, he gives Matt a small wave and a bashful smile.

After Shiro is gone, Slav scales Matt’s body to smugly whisper in his ear, “I think you might need to get your eardrums checked.”

The young human’s cheeks flare even brighter at this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember that I write purely for fun and catharsis. My fics are unbeta’d and minimally proofread. They’re not perfect, and that’s okay. If you notice something I could fix or improve, please keep those thoughts to yourself. If I genuinely want critique, I’ll ask a close friend in private. **Surprise critiques are very stressful and discouraging.** Thanks for understanding!


	2. The Heaviness We've Known [Coran & Lance]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When the scale tipped,_  
>  When you inherited  
> A fight that you were born to lose.  
> It’s not your fault,  
> No, it’s not your fault,  
> I put this heavy heart in you.  
> \--Heirloom by Sleeping At Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request for the [75 Followers celebration](https://agapostemon.tumblr.com/post/159694241951/75-follower-ficlet-requests) I'm doing over on Tumblr, where people give me a character/relationship and either a song or a 5-7 word prompt. This request was "Lance & Coran, Heirloom by Sleeping At Last."
> 
> Category: Gen, G-rated  
> Content Warnings: Nothing really?

When Coran’s late-night stroll leads him to the observation deck, he finds Lance already there, laying on his back and bouncing something small and round off of the curved window in front of him. It’s hardly a surprise: the two of them meet like this so often that it’s become somewhat of an unspoken tradition. With a sigh, Coran makes his way over to the restless young paladin and silently lays down beside him.

Lance catches his ball (Coran doesn’t recognize it, so it was probably synthesized by Pidge and Hunk) and turns his head towards Coran, “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?”

“You know what they say about the idkinga that sleeps too much,” responds Coran, casually tucking his hands behind his head.

“You had echidnas on Altea?” asks Lance, eyes bright with something between surprise and delight.

“What’s an echidna?” Coran blinks.

Lance droops, “Nevermind.”

After that, they lay in silence for a few dobashes, just looking out at the stars.

Eventually, Coran pipes up, “You remind me of myself when I was a youngster, you know.” He’s smiling fondly, but his voice is a little less cheery than usual. He wonders if Lance notices.

“I do?” Lance sounds surprised.

“Yep,” Coran nods, still staring up at the stars and hoping the young human can’t see the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, “And I hope this war treats your species better than it treated ours. None of you youngers deserved to get pulled into this quiznacking nonsense.” He snorts like it’s a joke, but it doesn’t feel like a joke.

“None of you deserved it, either,” responds Lance, passing his bouncy ball from hand to hand, “No one deserves this. That’s the worst part. If we lose, somebody else is gonna have to take our places.”

“Well then, I guess we’ll just have to win,” says Coran, filling his voice with as much confidence and humor as he can muster.

After another moment of silence, Lance speaks again, his voice watery, “You really think we can win this thing?”

Coran cracks a sad smile and frees a hand from under his head to ruffle Lance’s hair, “Only one way to find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember that I write purely for fun and catharsis. My fics are unbeta’d and minimally proofread. They’re not perfect, and that’s okay. If you notice something I could fix or improve, please keep those thoughts to yourself. If I genuinely want critique, I’ll ask a close friend in private. **Surprise critiques are very stressful and discouraging.** Thanks for understanding!


End file.
